"I think nothing ever disappears, said the Mexican. There are people, and animals too, and even objects, that for one reason or another sometimes seem to want to disappear, to vanish. Whether you believe it or not, Harry, sometimes a stone wants to vanish, I’ve seen it. But God won’t let it happen. He won’t let it happen because He can’t. Do you believe in God, Harry? Yes, Señor Demetrio, said Harry Magaña. Well, then, trust in God, he won’t let anything disappear."
“There is no friendship, said the voice, there is no love, there is no epic, there is no lyric poetry that isn’t the gurgle or chuckle of egoists, the murmur of cheats, the babble of traitors, the burble of social climbers, the warble of faggots.”—Roberto Bolaño, 2666 (via putalones)
(1) La Vaca was a good woman, according to the majority opinion of the women; (2) La Vaca didn’t work, but she always had plenty of money; (3) La Vaca could be extremely violent and she had strong ideas about right and wrong, rudimentary ideas, but ideas nonetheless; (4) someone was giving La Vaca money in exchange for something.
Four days later El Mariachi and El Cuervo were arrested. They turned out to be the musician Gustavo Domínguez and Renato Hernández Saladaña, respectively, and after being questioned at Precinct #3 they declared that they had committed the murder on Callejón Las Ánimas. As it happened, it was a movie that triggered the crime, a movie La Vaca wanted to watch but couldn’t beacuse her friends kept bursting out laughing. All three of them were pretty drunk. La Vaca started it, punching El Mariachi. At first El Cuervo didn’t want to get involved, but when La Vaca started swinging at him he had to defend himself. The fight was long and fair, said El Mariachi. La Vaca had asked them to step out in to the street so they wouldn’t damage the furniture, and they obeyed. Once they were outside, La Vaca informed them that it would be a clean fight, fists only, and they agreed, although they knew how strong their friend was. After all, she weighed almost one hundred eighty pounds. And it wasn’t fat, it was muscle, said El Cuervo. Outside, in the dark, they really started to give each other hell. They kept up for almost half an hour, back and forth, without a pause. When the fight was over, El Mariachi’s nose was broken and he was bleeding from both eyebrows, and El Cuervo was complaining of a rib he said was broken. La Vaca was on the ground. Only when they tried to hoist her up did they realize she was dead.